


No Need To Go Outside

by liophael



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plotless porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liophael/pseuds/liophael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shh,” Geno says, stilling him with a hand on his thigh. He glances up, smiling wickedly, before lowering his mouth to Sidney’s nipple again. “Day off, keep sleeping.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Need To Go Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zorana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorana/gifts).



There’s something pulling Sidney out of his sleep. He wakes up slowly but not naturally, frowning as he gradually comes alive to the world, and then arches his back and moans when he realises that the thing waking him up is Geno sucking gently on his right nipple, clumsily raising his head off the pillow.

Now that he’s awake, Geno lets him feel the edges of his teeth for a second and then pulls away, propping himself up on his elbow. Sidney blinks up at him. His hair is sticking up boyishly and there’s still a suggestion of sleep in his round brown eyes, though he definitely doesn’t look as muzzy as Sidney feels. He wonders exactly how long Geno’s been awake, and how long he’d been playing with Sidney’s nipple while he was asleep. Part of him is burning to know, and he could ask,  but that feels like it would be missing the point. Whatever Geno was doing, however long for, it was allowed. That’s the deal.

Still, knowing that he’s missed out makes him hungry for more, especially with the air making his wet nipple tingle. He’s still groggy and tender-bodied and his words aren’t working yet, so instead of asking he arches his back and hooks one hand around the back of Geno’s neck, encouraging him back down with a wordless noise of appeal.

Geno resists, laughing softly through his nose and smiling down at him. “Good morning,” he says.

He rests one hand low on Sidney’s belly and rubs it gently with his thumb. It seems sweet but it’s actually mean, because Geno knows how sensitive he is there. He makes another pleading noise, which just makes Geno smile and do it again, eyes dark and hot.

“Day off today?” he says. Sidney doesn’t understand why he’s made it a question, but he just nods and fidgets hopefully. “Good,” he says, sounding deeply satisfied, and moves his hand to thumb at the nipple he’d been playing with before.

“Geno,” Sidney says, unable to keep the complaint out of his voice this time, desperate for more.

Still smiling and moving with no hurry at all, like everything’s going according to some plan he has, Geno climbs on top of him and settles between his legs, far enough down Sidney’s body that he can lean over his chest on his elbows. It leaves Sidney’s crotch pressed flat against Geno’s belly and he moans, wrapping his legs around Geno’s back and rolling his hips up greedily.

“Shh,” Geno says, stilling him with a hand on his thigh. He glances up, smiling wickedly, before lowering his mouth to Sidney’s nipple again. “Day off, keep sleeping.”

Sidney groans. “I’m  _ awake _ ,” he protests, but goes as limp and relaxed as he can, spreading out under Geno’s weight and letting his head fall back onto the pillow. Geno hums approvingly, already back at work, sliding his hands under Sidney’s shoulders to lift him up to his mouth. After a moment, he pulls one hand free again to tug on Sidney’s wrist. Sidney takes the hint and buries both hands in his hair, arching up against Geno’s mouth and sighing happily.

Geno settles in like he might keep going all day, lingering over one nipple then the other, then rubbing both with his thumbs as he gently bites his way down Sidney’s ribs. It’s as though he’s just a way for Geno to pass the time as he lazes around in bed on his day off, and Sidney likes that thought too much stay relaxed for very long. He’s soon squirming urgently, dick throbbing and leaking inside his shorts, both arms wrapped tightly around Geno’s neck. Geno pays no attention whatsoever, just keeps on going until Sidney’s whining through his teeth, torn between begging to come and a foreboding that Geno is just waiting for him to ask so that he can smile sweetly and say no.

As though he can read his mind, Geno chooses that moment to lean up further and mouth at Sidney’s neck. “Oh god,” he moans, tipping his head further back. He manages to hold it together until Geno moves further up and starts nipping at his ear, breath hot and damp, still rubbing Sidney’s nipples with his thumbs. That breaks him. “I want to come,” he says, voice coming out high and strained. “Please?”

Geno kisses him. It’s wet and generous in a way that makes him think he might be in luck today, and pushes a little, saying “please?” again when Geno pulls away. Geno just raises his eyebrows.

“Already?” he says, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. It looks like Sidney isn’t in luck after all. He groans and lets his head flop back onto the pillow again, closing his eyes and mustering his mental strength for a long, difficult day off, trying to ignore the thrill he can feel fluttering between his ribs at the thought. But he’s interrupted by Geno kissing him again, just as lushly as before. “Okay,” Geno says, speaking right against his lips. “I make you come.”

Sidney makes a noise, relieved and disbelieving. Geno laughs, soft puffs of breath through his nose that are just enough to chill the sweat and spit on Sidney’s upper lip, and tugs at his shorts. They wriggle for a moment to get them off, and it’s only when he’s totally naked, bare dick sandwiched gently between their bellies, that he really believes that Geno’s serious, he’s really not going to make him wait. It makes him hum, happy and eager.

“Here,” Geno says, reaching for Sidney’s knee with his other hand. He hooks it over his shoulder so that Sidney is curled in half, then offers him his fingers to lick. “Get wet?” he says.

Sidney eagerly opens his mouth and lets Geno slide two inside. As he sucks on them, Geno thumbs the head of his dick in exactly the way he’d been rubbing his nipples earlier, getting it wet too.

When he feels like Geno’s fingers are good and ready, Sidney stops sucking and parts his lips. “Little bit more,” Geno says, pulling his fingers out of Sidney’s mouth offering him his knuckles. Sidney licks them obediently, being deliberately messy, until Geno finally seems satisfied. He takes a firmer hold on Sidney’s dick and slips his other hand down between his ass cheeks, spreading spit around and over his hole.

Sidney knows that he isn’t going to do any more than touch or he would have used lube, but it’s not like he’s disappointed. Geno’s fingers are long and blunt and clever, and the wetness on his ass and his dick makes everything such an easy slide. It’s like his orgasm is at the bottom of a long, gentle slope, and he lets Geno’s hands gently propel him towards it, sighing happily, perfectly relaxed. When it happens, it comes so easily that he feels like it could go on forever.

“God,” he says, stunned and blissful. “Geno.”

Geno smiles down at him proudly, gently lowering his leg back to the bed.

“Good?” he asks.

Sidney nods, feeling kind of floored, searching for words to tell Geno how it felt and not finding any. But he’s quickly distracted by the tension in Geno’s body, like a low-level electric humming, which reminds him that only one of them got to come.

“Your turn,” he says, stroking Geno’s shoulders. “What do you want?”

Geno kisses him briefly, then pulls them both a little further down the bed. Sidney lies flat on his back, waiting for instructions, but gets the message pretty quickly when Geno sits on his chest, knees on either side of his head. He doesn’t look as inclined to take as much time over himself as he had over Sidney, jaw set and already jerking himself off with one hand.

“Okay?” he asks, but Sidney’s already guiding him forward by his hips.

He concentrates on staying relaxed as Geno’s cock fills his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat, and feels Geno start to shake, which means he’s going to come soon. He always shakes when he’s close. It makes Sidney suck harder, eager, and Geno groans.

“Sid, your fucking mouth,” he hisses. Sidney just hums, feeling slightly smug as he takes it like an expert, pressing the flat of his tongue to the underside of Geno’s cock as he starts to fuck his mouth.

When Geno comes, not long after, he lets out a long, breathy sigh with just the ghost of his deep voice in it and holding himself ruthlessly still against his shakes so that Sidney doesn’t choke. Sidney swallows happily until he’s done, then pulls off, letting his head fall right back onto the mattress, smiling and catching his breath. He feels completely boneless, and is expecting Geno to collapse next to him in a similar state, all limbs. But instead, Geno lies down right on top of him and lowers his mouth to Sidney’s nipple again, drawing him close.

“Ah!” he gasps, twitching feebly as little shocks run through him. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” says Geno, stroking his sides. “Is okay.”

Sidney shudders and moves his hands to Geno’s head as though to push him away, but doesn’t. Holding him actually makes it easier, anchoring him against his own oversensitive body, and he manages to stop fighting the shocks and just breathe. The press of Geno’s sleek tongue soon stops making him jump and becomes soothing.

“That feels so nice,” he says, slurring his words a little. Geno lifts his head and smiles happily. Sidney gives him a drowsy smile in return, feeling relaxed enough to fall straight back to sleep. Sharing a bed with Geno, he can usually rely on being allowed to do that. It’s what Geno himself tends to do, especially on days off. But today is apparently different. Instead of curling up for a post-sex nap, Geno starts gently manhandling him out of bed.

“Shower,” he says, pressing coaxing kisses against his shoulder. “Then food? Cook?”

“Already?” Sid grumbles, preparing to dig his heels in. He glances over at the clock for the first time since he woke up, and is startled to realise that it’s only eight thirty. “Geez,” he says. “What’s got into you?”

Geno just shrugs. “Day off,” he says.

He herds Sidney all the way through to the bathroom, and keeps herding him until they’re standing in the shower together. Sidney feels like he’s acquired some sort of giant nanny dog. The image tickles him, and he starts to laugh to himself, glancing up at Geno from time to time and laughing a little harder. Geno just raises his eyebrows at him and passes him the body wash in a pointed manner. He takes it upon himself to decide when shower time is up too, running a critical eye over Sidney’s front before turning the water off and shepherding him back out. Sidney loses it again when Geno holds a towel up and looks at him expectantly, as though he expects Sidney to let him dry him off like a five-year old.

“What are you doing?” he asks fondly, pulling the towel out of Geno’s hands. “Do we have somewhere to go or something?”

“No,” Geno says, picking up a towel of his own and rubbing it the length of his long arms.  “We stay here today.”

“I can’t stay all day,” Sidney says, bending down to blot his legs dry. “I’m going out with Tanner and Suttsy later.”

He stands up straight again and suddenly catches sight of Geno’s expression, which is ominous.

“Tanner have baby,” he says. “Should be busy.”

“Sawyer and Emily are out of town for a couple of nights,” says Sidney. “Visiting Emily’s parents. Tanner’s all by himself, so we’re going to grab dinner and go see a movie.”

“When?” Geno asks.

“Uh, we’re going to get dinner at six thirty or so? Go see the movie at eight?” Sidney says.

“Okay,” says Geno, but doesn’t sound happy about it at all. He pins Sidney with a look. “You stay here rest of day.”

“Yeah, of course,” Sidney says, then adds: “We’re up pretty early, so I’ll be here for ages. Lots of time.”

Geno grumbles something indistinct and starts chivvying Sidney through to the bedroom. “Omelette,” he says, menacingly.

“Okay, okay,” says Sidney. “Do you have ingredients?”

“Yes, lots,” says Geno. “I bought. For you.”

“Right, for me. So I can make you breakfast,” Sidney says, dryly. “Thanks there, Geno.”

“Canadian bacon,” says Geno, and he immediately melts.

“Did you really?” he asks. “Oh, wow. That’s really- thanks, Geno.”

“It’s fine, I like too,” Geno says. He doesn’t sound so sulky. Sidney’s reaction to the bacon seems to have mollified him.

In spite of that, Sidney finds himself worrying. He can’t help feeling that Geno had some sort of plan for the day, some reason for getting them out of bed so early, and that by being busy in the evening he’s ruined it. That’s not his fault, exactly, but the image of Geno tucking proper Canadian bacon into the fridge, probably feeling smug about it, makes him feel horribly guilty.

“Hey, I’m sorry about this evening,” he says. “I probably should have said something sooner. I just didn’t think about it.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine,” says Geno, pulling Sidney in with an arm around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. “We still make omelette now. And then we have until, five thirty? Lots of time.”

“Okay,” says Sidney.

They walk into the closet together. Sidney doesn’t live with Geno, but he does have his own  drawer. There are all kinds of things in there, a weird mix of comfy house-clothes from times he’s planned to come round and nicer bar clothes from times he hasn’t, but has ended up back at Geno’s house anyway. He rummages around for a moment and emerges with the first pair of shorts that falls under his hands. But as he’s stepping into them, Geno catches his elbow.

“No,” he says, and reaches into the drawer. “Wear these ones.”

He pulls out a pair of red shorts that Sid had forgotten he owned. They’d come in a pack of nice, normal black shorts. As far as he could remember, he’d only worn them once, and that was because all his other underwear had needed to be washed. He eyes Geno sceptically.

“I’d rather stick with these,” he says, holding up the other pair. But Geno sets his jaw, and Sidney knows that he’s going to lose. “It’s not like you’ll be able to see them,” he says, protesting anyway.

Geno shakes his head. “I see,” he says. “Just wear these. Nothing else.”

Sidney’s face turns as red as the shorts.

“You want me to cook you breakfast in my underwear?” he asks, feeling short of breath.

“Want you like that all day,” Geno tells him, trailing his eyes over Sidney’s chest, then glancing up at him quickly and following the same lines with his hands, very lightly. “Day off,” he says, coaxingly. “Nobody see. Just for me.”

“I,” Sidney says, then hesitates. Geno waits patiently, stroking his hips. Every inch of his skin suddenly feels like it’s tingling. It’s a lot, but he’s starting to trust that no matter how overwhelmed he might feel, he just has to bear with it for a while and Geno will turn it into something good - something great. “Okay,” he says. “I guess I can do that.”

Geno pulls him close and presses a kiss to his temple. “Make me happy,” he says, running his hand the length of Sidney’s bare back.

They both get dressed, Sidney into the red shorts (which he still thinks are stupid, even if Geno does like them), and Geno into a pair of soft grey sweatpants and a v-necked shirt. Despite being so particular about Sidney’s underwear, he doesn’t bother to put any on himself. Sweatpants don’t hide much when Geno isn’t wearing underwear, and Sidney starts to feel hot again, a simmering just under his skin. It’s eased when Geno runs a hand over his bare back again.

“Breakfast now,” he says.

They walk down to the kitchen together. Geno proudly opens his fridge, showing Sidney all the omelette ingredients he’s bought. He’s been pretty thorough. There’s so much stuff that Sidney think he could make omelettes for half of the team.

“Here,” Geno says, pulling out the promised packet of bacon and pressing it into Sidney’s hands. “This, for sure. And onions,” he continues, fishing a bag of those out as well, then turning to Sidney, one hand still hovering to fetch things. “What else?” he asks, eagerly.

“Peppers,” says Sidney, pointing. “And, uh, is that spinach?”

“Yeah,” says Geno, adding it to the pile. “And feta? I get both.”

“Good call,” says Sidney. “Are those red onions, there? Let’s use them instead. And sweetcorn.”

He looks at the little pile they’ve built up. “That’s probably enough,” he says, satisfied. “Oh yeah, and eggs, obviously.” He peers back into the fridge, looking for them, but can’t see any. “You got eggs, right?” he says, looking up at Geno, who is suddenly paying close attention to the ceiling. “You forgot  _ eggs _ ?” Sidney says. “For an omelette?”

Geno breaks into a mischievous grin and reaches round to the counter beside the fridge. There’s a big carton sitting there that Sidney hadn’t noticed. He holds it out innocently, still grinning. “Ha ha,” says Sidney, taking it off him and adding it to their pile of ingredients. “Very funny.”

“You fall for it,” Geno says, smirking.

He drops himself into one of the stools that sits by the big island in the middle of kitchen, leaning back and look up at Sidney smugly.

“Yeah, alright,” Sidney says. “Stop doing that and help me chop.”

Geno just smirks even wider and shakes his head.

“Right,” Sidney says, rolling his eyes and trying to look unimpressed. It doesn’t work. There’s a blush rising all the way from his cheeks to his chest and he can’t get the stupid smile off his face. “Well then. This might take a while.”

He fetches a board and a knife and starts chopping, trying not to do anything differently just because Geno’s watching because that would be stupid. He always chops things this neatly, for sure, he tells himself, scraping the finished onion into a neat little pile and starting on the pepper. It’s not like Geno will even notice how neatly it’s chopped. He doesn’t pay attention to how things are presented. Except that he does, and that’s why Sidney is standing in his kitchen, making him an omelette in red shorts. The realisation makes his face feel hot, and he tries to think about something else.

“Can you cook?” he wonders aloud. Geno raises his eyebrows at him pointedly. “Not now,” he  says, dryly. “I get the message. But can you?”

“Little bit,” Geno says, shrugging. “I don’t know any recipes, though.”

“But you could follow one, right?” says Sidney.

“Russian recipe,” says Geno. “Maybe. But I like other people cook, I help.”

“That’s such a lie,” Sidney says, tipping the onions and peppers into the big pan on the hob and giving Geno a narrow look over his shoulder. “You never help.”

Geno grins slyly, the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth. “You so good, don’t need help,” he says.

Sidney makes omelettes so often that he’s able to put this one together more or less on autopilot, which is a good thing, because Geno is being distracting. The worst thing is that he isn’t really doing anything, apart from looking at him. But he somehow manages to make his eyes feel heavy on Sidney’s bare skin. Being a hockey player, always in the locker room, he didn’t think he cared about being naked in front of other people, but Geno makes him feel like he’s on pins. It takes a lot of effort to focus on the cooking eggs and not think about all the places Geno might be looking, what he might be thinking.

He does manage in the end, because though Geno watches him for the entire time, he doesn’t actually get in the way. Not until the omelette is nearly done and Sidney is waiting for just the right moment to take it off the heat, when Geno suddenly appears right by his shoulder.

“Smells good,” he says, pressing himself lightly against Sidney’s back. Sidney tries not to react, even when Geno sneaks his arms around his waist and starts tracing lazy patterns over his bare chest. “I need a couple of plates,” he says, primly.

“Plates,” Geno says, disdainfully, and nips the back of Sidney’s neck. It makes him gasp, and that seems to be what Geno was looking for. He pulls away, fetching a couple of plates of the cupboard and holding them out for Sidney to divide the omelette onto, suddenly all obliging. But he’s still watching Sidney knowingly, like he might start in on him again at any second. It makes Sidney nervous. He keeps himself outwardly calm, arranging his expression into a wall that he can hide his thoughts and feelings behind, like he does when he’s talking to the media, but he knows Geno can probably tell anyway.

They go to the table to eat. Before he sits down, Geno casually pushes his chair much closer to Sidney’s. He eats in the same kind of lazy sprawl that he’d been sitting in to watch Sidney cook, one arm draped over the back of Sidney’s chair. Sidney himself sits up straight, shoulders hunched forward. He can tell that Geno is still watching him, and self-consciousness makes his skin tingle.

“It can’t be that interesting,” he says eventually, trying to sound sarcastic.

“What?” says Geno, innocently.

“Watching me eat,” Sidney says, glancing at Geno over his shoulder.

Instead of answering, Geno just runs his fingers very lightly down Sidney’s spine. The line he traces is perfectly straight, and that gets spoiled by Sidney shivering, not any shakes in Geno’s hand. His knowing smirk grows, like it was a competition and he won, and Sidney looks away again.  _ Soft hands _ , he thinks, despite himself, and turns even redder.

The difference in the way they’re sitting, and Sidney’s determination to distract himself, means that he finishes his food quite a long time before Geno. It leaves him with nothing to do but sit in his seat and stew, totally unable to take his mind off the fact that he’s nearly naked, or that Geno must be going to do him again, soon. That’s the only thing all the watching and teasing can possibly have been leading up to, and Sidney has tried so hard to stay patient and calm, but he’s getting edgy now.

It must be noticeable, because Geno strokes his back again. “Okay?” he asks.

In Sidney’s head, he says ‘yeah, fine,’ stays perfectly calm, and waits Geno out. Actually, he says, “hurry up,” and it sounds embarrassingly needy, and also bossy, maybe bossier than Geno’s willing to take today. “Please,” he adds, hurriedly.

Geno smiles at him. “It’s really good,” he says, through a mouthful of omelette. “I’m take my time.”

Sidney closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he feels Geno’s arm slip from the back of his chair to wrap around his shoulders, and then the slight tug and Geno pulls him closer, he goes with no resistance. Geno might be making him wait now, but if Sidney knows him, it won’t be for too long. And it feels good to settle himself against Geno’s side, the warm, soft cotton of his t-shirt and his comfortably muscle-bound ribcage underneath.

Nevertheless, he’s glad when Geno finishes eating and pulls him to his feet, leading him through to the living room and the big comfortable couch, skin tingling eagerly. When Geno pushes him onto his back on the big, comfortable couch, he goes easily, wriggling until he’s planted securely on the cushions and parting his knees so there’s space for Geno too. Geno takes it, settling on top of him, his weight and the bits of Sidney’s body that it presses against feeling comfortingly familiar. It’s very similar to how they were lying in bed that morning, even more so when Geno slides his hands under Sidney’s back. But before he does, he picks the remote up from the arm of the couch and drops it on his chest, grinning cheekily.

Sidney frowns. “What…?” he begins, and then gets distracted when Geno lowers his head and starts sucking on his nipple. It feels really good, just like before, but. “Again?” he asks, eyebrows raising.

Geno peeks up at him, eyes sparkling, and nods. “Watch TV if you get bored,” he says, raising an eyebrow at the remote.

“I’m not bored,” says Sidney, frowning and putting the remote back on the arm of the couch. And it’s true - he isn’t. Just because Geno’s done this quite a lot already today doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. So he slides his hands into Geno’s hair and relaxes, arching his back and rolling his hips, finding friction for himself against Geno’s hips. Maybe making a bit of a show of how much he likes it, because the idea that he could be bored while they’re having sex is affronting to him.

But the more willingly he participates, the gentler Geno’s touches seem to become. It still feels good, light licks and kisses to the thin, dark skin at the edge of his nipple, but Sidney is more than ready for something harder. “Geno,” he finally complains, shifting restlessly.

Geno glances up at him again, looking wicked, and just looks pointedly at the remote. Sidney presses his lips together and holds out for another couple of minutes, trying harder than ever to goad Geno into doing more, but it backfires, because the harder the tries the more he winds himself up. When his toes start curling tightly, he gives in, letting his head fall back against the arm of the couch and grumpily reaching for the remote.

It’s one of the stranger things he’s ever done, watching old episodes of Duck Dynasty on Netflix while Geno lies on top of him and pays endless attention to his nipples, and for a while he feels so self-conscious and baffled that he can’t really concentrate on anything: Geno or the TV. But just like earlier that morning, he soon finds himself adjusting and relaxing. It’s weird, but it’s nice. Reruns are relaxing, and so is the way his body is humming gently under Geno’s mouth. Dimly, he realises that he’s started petting Geno’s back, hands running in thoughtless patterns over his shirt.

Time slips by easily. Despite being nearly naked, Geno and the couch are keeping him pleasantly warm, and by the end of the third episode he’s beginning to feel drowsy. He barely moves even when Geno finally pulls away, and only cracks his eyes open when the voices coming from the TV suddenly cut off.

Geno doesn’t say anything, just moves them so that they’re sitting upright on the coach, tucking Sidney against his side. He catches Sidney’s chin and tilts his face up for a kiss. It’s wet and open-mouthed and makes Sidney’s heart beat faster, body waking up from it’s stupor. He wonders if he’s finally going to be rewarded for the patience he’s shown all morning. But Geno just pulls away and settles against the couch again, smiling at him in the knowing way that’s beginning to drive Sidney crazy.

“My turn now,” he says, flicking through the TV’s menu with the remote and selecting a different show. Sidney doesn’t know what it is, because the title is in Cyrillic.

“This is in Russian,” he says, accusingly.

Geno glances down at him, eyebrows raised. “You not like?” he asks.

“I can’t understand it,” Sidney says.

“Shh,” says Geno, kissing his temple. “Just watch.”

Sidney stares at the TV, forehead slowly creasing into a frown.

“What’s the point,” he asks, “of making me wear these dumb shorts if you just want to watch TV?”

Geno smiles down at him again. “Day off,” he says.

“That’s not an answer,” says Sidney, setting his jaw, but then Geno leans down to kiss him again and all the indignation goes out of him.

They watch the show together for a while. Geno laughs, and Sidney half-heartedly tries to figure out what’s going on. It’s no good, and he’s just starting to get drowsy again when Geno rubs his shoulder, waking him up.

“Thirsty,” he says, turning so that his lips brush Sidney’s temple. “Go get Gatorade?”

Sidney sighs. “Alright,” he says, pulling himself to his feet.

Geno smiles up at him and catches his hand before he can go, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Thank you, Sid,” he says, eyes twinkling. Sidney thinks he’s just smug that he’s got his way again, but then he says, “Get lube, too,” and Sidney’s eyes pop open.

“Gatorade in fridge,” Geno says, as though nothing’s happened, nudging Sidney towards the kitchen and turning back to his TV show. Sidney goes, too flustered to think of anything to say, ignoring the wicked grin that spreads over Geno’s face.

He goes upstairs first, rummaging through Geno’s bedside drawer with his face burning. Then he has to walk all the way back downstairs and into the kitchen, still in nothing but his shorts, holding a half-used tube of lube. He tries not to think about what he looks like, partly out of embarrassment, and partly because he’s worried that he might like it. That tends to happen a lot, with the things Geno gets him to do.

Putting it out of his mind, he gets two bottles of Gatorade out of the fridge and walks back through to the living room, heart pounding. He’s not really sure what to do with himself, so he ends up hovering next to the couch, clutching everything nervously.

“I got it,” he says. His voice comes out sounding rusty.

Geno smiles and gestures for him to put everything on the table, then leans forward and plucks the lube out of his hand. An aroused flush sweeps across Sidney’s body.

“Are you going to turn the TV off now?” he asks.

Geno smiles angelically and shakes his head. “Not finished yet,” he says, and pulls Sidney back down onto the couch. “Pay attention to you too, though,” he whispers, running a hand down to rest on his lower back. He nudges him gently, and Sidney scrambles to get into position, ending up straddling one of Geno’s splayed thighs with his elbows braced on the back of the couch. He has to hunch his shoulders and tuck one arm awkwardly underneath himself, or it would be blocking Geno’s view of the screen.

“Good,” Geno tells him, stroking his back. “You can stay there? ”

“Yeah,” Sidney says, shakily.

“Okay,” says Geno, giving him a quick kiss.

He opens the lube and squeezes some onto his fingers, then pulls the waistband of Sidney’s boxers away from his body with his clean hand. “Let me play?” he asks, sliding his wet fingers down between Sidney’s cheeks and rubbing them gently against his hole.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Sidney gasps.

Geno grins, kissing him again, and then turns back to the TV, one hand still stuck down the back of Sidney’s shorts.

It’s in Sidney to protest at the way Geno is treating him like some kind of stress ball, but…his fingers just feel so good. With a sigh, he lets his eyes fall closed and feels the fight draining out of him, satisfied at last.

Now that he’s finally getting what he wants, he starts to feel a little daring. Mischievous, too. Very gently, he starts to rock against Geno’s hand, taking more of what he wants but pointedly not demanding any more of Geno’s attention, bending the rules but not breaking them.

“That feels so nice,” he says, as quietly as he can. Geno doesn’t answer, but Sidney thinks he feels him go tense. He smiles to himself, and then gasps when Geno roughly pushes one finger inside him. “That’s not exactly a good punishment, you know,” he says, pressing down onto it eagerly.

Geno growls something in Russian and slides his other hand into Sidney’s shorts too, squeezing his ass. It almost makes Sidney overbalance, and he quickly has to move so that he’s straddling Geno’s hips properly.

“You stop talking,” Geno says. “Distract me.”

He tugs Sidney forward so that he’s plastered against his chest, back arched to raise his ass, and Sidney realises it’s so that he can keep fingering him but see the TV screen as well. It’s frustrating, and ridiculous, because he can feel Geno’s hard dick through his sweatpants and hear his breathing getting rougher, and he’s pretty sure he’s not paying any actual attention to the TV at all. But when Geno sets his mind on something it’s pretty hard to knock him off it, and times like this are when Sidney can admit to himself how much he likes that.

“Really good show, eh?” he asks, voice coming out a little uneven, and hooks his chin over Geno’s shoulder and just clings as Geno fingers him and runs his other hand all over his back. His whole body is starting to feel loose and shaky, and he clings even tighter when Geno gives him another finger, getting lost in it.

“Up,” Geno says, suddenly. He pushes Sidney to his feet, movements clumsy, and drags the shorts down his legs. It feels like a triumph, and Sidney glady kicks them away while Geno lifts his hips and pulls his sweatpants down to his knees. “Come here,” he says, guiding Sidney back down, eyes trained on him in a way that makes Sidney feel like the whole world has shrunk to be barely bigger than the two of them. “Gonna fuck you,” Geno says, sliding his hands under Sidney’s ass and pushing him up. He’s more than happy to take the hint, positioning himself over Geno’s dick.

He doesn’t know exactly how to describe this moment anymore, bearing down against the stretch. It’s not unfamiliar, not now, but it still makes him forget to breath. He tightens his hands on Geno’s shoulders, and lets out a breath when he’s taken it all.

“Am I riding you?” he asks, opening his eyes again. Geno’s expression takes him by surprise. He’s biting his lower lip like there’s something about to burst out of him, and his eyes look full. He doesn’t speak, just nods.

“Okay,” Sidney says. He adjusts himself on his knees, curling his toes into the couch for purchase, and begins to move. The drag feels good straightaway, and his eyes fall closed. He opens them again a second later when he hears Geno gasp, as though he’d been holding his breath, and feels his fingers digging into his waist.

“Fuck,” Geno swears. He’s turned a deep, splotchy red, all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sidney watches him drop his head back and grit his teeth, fascinated, and doesn’t even realise he’s stopped moving.

“No, no,” Geno says, squeezing his waist again. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, sorry,” says Sidney, and picks up his easy rhythm again.

It feels really good, like always. Sidney shifts so that Geno’s cock is rubbing the place in him that feels best, and feels his spine straightening out, like a cat getting its ears scratched. But he’s taking it pretty easy, and Geno looks  _ wrecked _ . It’s amazing. The hair at his temples is soaked with sweat, his lips are pulled back in a grimace, and he’s flinching at odd moments like Sidney’s hitting something really sensitive.

“Geno,” he breathes, leaning closer and gently cupping his neck. It makes Geno open his eyes, face suddenly going soft and embarrassed. He laughs nervously and leans forward to rest his forehead against Sidney’s chest.

“I want to wait longer,” he says, voice ragged. “Was going to play with you all afternoon.”

“Yeah?” Sidney says, stroking his hair.

“ Yeah,” Geno says fiercely, looking up at him. “I want,” he pulls Sidney right down onto his lap and makes him stay there, “you sit like this, I make you come with my hands. More than one time.  _ Then  _ I fuck you.”

“Geno,” Sidney says, shivering happily.

“ I  _ can’t _ , though,” Geno says, sounding frustrated. His fingers dig into Sidney’s thighs. “You - I can’t-”

Sidney feels a flash of something savage. He tightens his hands in Geno’s hair, and breaks the hold he has on his thighs to start riding him again. Geno whimpers helplessly. “ _ Sid _ .”

“You’re shaking,” he says.

“ I’m close,” Geno gasps. “Sid, slower,  _ please _ .”

Another shiver runs through Sidney’s body and he does what Geno asks, slowing right down but still dragging himself up and down the length of Geno’s cock. His thighs start to burn, but he keeps the rhythm absolutely regular. Their eyes stay locked as he moves. The grimace starts to creep back across Geno’s face, until he looks so broken open that Sidney has to lean forward and hold him closer, even though it makes the burn in his thighs even worse. It makes him feel proud, maybe even a bit vain. Not everyone could do this, but he can, because he’s strong, and Geno wants him. He imagines leaning back and showing Geno the whole picture, and wonders if this is the feeling behind the whole red shorts thing, only from the other side.  

Their eye contact is finally broken when Geno moans and lets his head fall forward onto Sidney’s chest again. His hips are beginning to buck, and the shaking is worse than ever. It’s amazing. Geno is  _ amazing _ . Sidney braces himself on his shoulders again, effectively pinning Geno to the back of the couch, and speeds up, riding him harder. He begins to moan, short, wounded sounds that mirror Sidney’s rhythm.

“You should come,” Sidney says, grinding down. “Then you could finger me, like you wanted to.”

“Best plan,” Geno says, hands sliding down to Sidney’s ass and taking hold. “Can’t wait,” he says, voice strained.

“Do it,” Sidney encourages. He puts his hands back on the couch so that Geno can move, and braces himself against it when Geno starts to thrust up into him, hard and fast. When he starts to come, clutching at Sidney almost painfully and pressing himself as deep inside as he can, Sidney’s eye slide closed and he lets Geno take all of his weight, straightening his spine and enjoying the feeling as warm, wet come fills him up.

A moment later, Geno goes totally limp, collapsing back against the couch for a final time with his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open. Sidney leaves him for a moment, shifting slightly to feel more of the slickness inside him.

“If you do finger me, it’s going to be pretty messy,” he says, smiling at how slowly Geno opens his eyes. They look even sleepier than usual, but the soft, open look on his face disappears quickly, and he starts to look determined again.

“We shower again,” he says, biting his lip as he carefully pulls out and then repositioning Sidney on his lap. “Still lots of time.”

“Yeah,” says Sidney, leaning closer. “We’ve got time.”

He shivers as Geno slips the first finger inside him, and happily settles down to let him get on with his plan.

*****

By the time they’ve dragged themselves off the sofa and cleaned up, slowly, spending quite a lot of time in the shower just leaning against each other with their eyes closed, it’s well past lunch time. They go foraging in Geno’s fridge and eat whatever they can find until they’re full, then go and sit on the couch again. Geno turns the TV on, but neither of them are really watching it.

Sid feels like he blinked, and it’s suddenly five o’clock. He needs to get up, put some proper clothes on, and head out to meet Tanner and Suttsy. The idea should be welcome, because he’s getting hungry again, and he feels as though he should be bored - he’s not really done much with the day, after all. But it’s been great. He feels rested and content, and if all he did for the rest of the day was sit next to Geno on the sofa and then go to bed with him, he thinks that he’d fall asleep feeling exactly the same way. It’s disconcerting, because that kind of willingness to do nothing doesn’t come naturally to him, at all. But then again, maybe he’s wrong to think of spending time with Geno as ‘nothing’.

Geno rubs his arm.

“Have to go?” he asks.

Sidney purses his lips and nods, then leans forward and mashes his face into Geno’s shoulder.

“Don’t really want to,” he says, quietly. Geno doesn’t say anything, just keeps stroking his arm, but when Sidney eventually peeks up at him he’s beaming.

“You go, have good time,” he says. “Then come back here. I wait up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Sidney says at once. “Anyway, we’ve got practice tomorrow. We should probably stay at our own places tonight. You know, um, get some sleep,” he says, grinning bashfully. “And besides, I can’t keep staying over at your place. I’m going to run out of clothes here eventually.”

“Come back here,” Geno says, mulishly. “We get lots of sleep. Drive to practice together tomorrow. And you don’t need clothes here,” he says, waggling his eyebrows and grinning stupidly. Sidney snorts. “Seriously,” Geno says. “You stay here tonight.”

“I want to,” Sidney admits. Geno smiles again, looking absurdly happy from something so simple. It makes Sidney’s heart beat faster. He can’t decide if he feels like the most powerful person in the world, or the smallest.

“So do,” Geno say. “Is easy. Why you make excuse?”

Sidney shrugs, because he doesn’t really know. “Okay,” he says. Geno beams at him again, and pushes him down on the couch to kiss him.

“Okay,” he says after a minute, slightly breathless. “I have to go now, though.”

Geno nods and lets him up.

“Go get dressed,” he says, spreading himself out in his sweatpants and looking smug. Sidney narrows his eyes and goes upstairs.

“What are you going to have for dinner?” he asks a moment later, as he’s about to step out of the front door.

“I have food from Mama in the freezer,” Geno says, grinning happily.

“Isn’t that for emergencies?” Sidney asks, smiling back.

“Sometimes,” Geno says. “Or, you know, for celebrate. I think I have today. Day off.” He leans down to steal a quick kiss. “Best day.”

Sidney suddenly wants to cling. “It’s been  _ really  _ great,” he says, looking up at Geno earnestly.

Geno smiles, then pokes him. “Not done yet,” he says. “You go. I see you again later.”

“Okay,” Sidney says, and goes up on his toes for another kiss. “Bye.”

He hears Geno shutting the door behind him as he walks down the steps, and for a second he wants to turn around and go right back inside. But that’s dangerous. Things with Geno are…not as casual as they were to begin with. That’s not a bad thing. If today was anything to go by, it’s a great thing. But getting too wrapped up in one thing, no matter how great it is, is a bad idea. He’d had to learn that about hockey the hard way, and he’s not one to let hard-earned lessons go to waste.

So, he thinks to himself, walking towards his car. Practice. A little bit, every day. That’s how you get better. He drives away with a smile on his face. Geno’s not the only one with a plan.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Zee! This is really late *cough*, but you're really great. Many happy returns.
> 
> Thank you Allie for reading this over in the face of sever router-based adversity. You're also really great. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read! I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
